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“Ms. Armstrong?” she calls to Mia, the officer on duty.
“What is it, Collins?”
“I feel sick. Can I go to the nurse’s station?”
Mia looks annoyed for a moment, and I’m sure she’s going to turn her down. Then she looks at her watch, huffing, and nods. “I’ll escort you. Let’s go, hurry up.” As the two depart, Mia glances back over her shoulder at us. Her eyes land on Ronnie. “No funny business or it’s isolation for all of you.”
They leave, and something settles over the room at once. Something sinister. I can feel it; we all can. There’s danger here, and it’s engulfing us. Lace drops the towel she’s holding and so do I. We turn to Ronnie. So does everyone else.
“We have a rat in my prison.” Ronnie leans back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, eyeing us with contempt. Her eyes dart from one person to another, accusing, dangerous.
“How do we know it’s not a shady guard?” asks Camilla, straightening herself to her full height. Nobody shows it, but I know we’re all cringing on the inside. Questioning the Boss is a no-no, even from someone like Camilla, who is as neutral as they come.
“It’s not a guard,” says Ronnie. “It’s one of you. And until someone comes forward, there will be punishment. For all of you.”
I glance at Lace out of the corner of my eye. She’s looking straight at Ronnie, chin lifted, but I can see something in her eyes, something unsettling. Fear. Apprehension. Does she have something to do with this?
Fuck.
“You can’t punish everybody for one person’s mistake,” I say to Ronnie. If I thought it couldn’t get any quieter in the room, I was wrong. Ronnie’s cold eyes land on me. Her expression doesn’t change, and that almost makes it worse. I feel like she’s reading me like an open book, taking me in, working on her predictions. I fold my arms over my chest, building a shield, I realize. I hope somebody will speak up, back me, but no one does.
Of course they don’t.
“I can,” Ronnie says, scowling at me. “And I will.” She looks away, her eyes back on the rest of the group. “One person,” she repeats, and her eyes flash fire. “One person has fucked it up for all of you. And you can all bet your ass, I’ll find out who did it. I’ll find out, and I will take you down.” She’s no longer looking directly at me, so I take that as a good sign. Now is a good time to shut my mouth and keep it shut, especially since I’m not the guilty party.
Before anyone else can speak—if anyone dares to—the door swings open and Mia comes back in just in time for the work buzzer to ring. The relief is immediate and tangible, and we all crowd out of the laundry room. Ronnie is last, and I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my skull as Lace and I hurry back to our unit to get ready for bed. I go to my cell and she goes to hers, then a few minutes later she shows up at my door, pajama-clad, smiling.
“Care for company?” she asks, leaning against the door and smiling. Behind her, Camilla and Sabine are sitting on the couch in the common room, snacking on some popcorn and watching the TV. Camilla looks over and grins.
“Get a room, you two,” she calls.
“We’ve got one,” I say, and take Lace’s hand to pull her in. I don’t see Ronnie anywhere, but that’s fine with all of us, I’m sure. I wonder what she’s up to, who she’s harassing for information. As Lace lays down on my bed, slipping under the sheets, I drop my sweats and peel off my sweater, joining her in nothing but undies and a thin tank top. Lace smiles as I curl up next to her. Just being near this woman lights a fire I didn’t even know was smoldering deep in the pit of my gut.
“Crazy what happened with Lulu,” I say, turning to face her in the bed. Lace’s eyes waver from mine, just for a brief second, but it’s enough.
“Yeah,” she says. “Crazy.”
I take her chin between two fingers and force her to look at me. She barely can.
“Were you involved?”
This time, when Lace’s eyes drop, they don’t return. She stares at a spot on the blanket, unspeaking, but I can see it written all over her face. She pulls her lip between her teeth and chews, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to; I already know.
“Fuck,” I say.
“I had to.”
“You lagged on Ronnie.” I reach for Lace, but she shies away, shaking her head. I drop my hand back onto the bed. “Why did you do it?”
“It doesn’t matter why.”
“Yes, it does.”
Lace pulls away from me and sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed, away from me. She’s shaking her head. “The reasons don’t matter, Joey, don’t you get it? Lagging is not acceptable or noble, even if we think we’re doing it for the right reasons. It’s just the rule here, and we all know it.” She hesitates. “Including me.”
“What if Ronnie finds out?”
Lace shrugs, twisting her hands in her lap. “Then I’ll get the punishment I deserve.”
